


Spider Shaming

by ghoulaesthetics



Series: tumblr prompts [8]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Gen, Halloween, Humor, Like, Prompt Fill, Tumblr Prompt, i mean i wrote it well but the subject matter is absolutely not to be taken seriously lmao, i think im funny idk, shitpost fic honestly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 11:48:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8444638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghoulaesthetics/pseuds/ghoulaesthetics
Summary: The assignment was routine--minor political assassination, get in, get out. Halloween was the last thing on her mind.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is a fucking shitpost.
> 
> thanks again maj for the prompt "widowmaker seeing one (1) giant fake spider in somebodys decorations, freezing in her tracks, and silently trying to rationalize her fear of them "
> 
> happy (late) halloween ya fucks, enjoy.

_ Do not look into its eyes. Whatever you do, do not do that. You will screw yourself over, and then what? The target is lost, idiot, that’s what.  _

This was the general tone that Amélie kept for the conversation she was having with herself in her head. Self-deprecating while somehow still sounding like she had a handle on the situation. 

The assignment was routine--minor political assassination, get in, get out. Halloween was the last thing on her mind. 

Evidently, not the last thing on the mind of the target, who had completely decked out their office for the holiday. Skeletons, ghosts, cobwebs, and of course, spiders.

Amélie was no stranger to the irony in her moniker in relation to her arachnophobia. She didn’t like them, didn’t care to be near them, and certainly didn’t want to see them. Which is why it had been somewhat problematic that the face of a large, hyper-realistic decorative spider had been the first thing she saw when she peered into the scope. It broke her focus, and she found herself unable to look away. She had had nightmares along these lines before, and for a split second actually thought the thing was real. 

It wasn’t, of course, and logic kicked in a few seconds later to tell her so. But fear was interesting, and overrode her instinct to  _ move the damn scope.  _ But no, she kept still, kept on staring into its beady little eyes, framed just so with the right amount of disgusting, spindly hairs. The fangs were animatronic as well, and moved eerily realistically. A few more moments of this and she would lose the target into another section of the building and have to be extracted without completion. 

Which is exactly how that went down. The target rose from their work desk, grabbed their coffee mug, and headed deeper into the building, away from the window and out of the room. 

She tapped the comm in her ear. Stifling a deep sigh, she released the scope on her rifle and opened the line. 

“Widowmaker here,” she said flatly.

“We read you. Status on the target?”

“...Target lost. Requesting extraction.”

“Understood.”

To this day, it is the only target she had ever missed. As far as she knows, no one ever found out the reason for the slip up, and Amélie fully intends to keep it that way. The decorative spider may have won the first confrontation, but she refused to let it have this. 


End file.
